In Your eyes
by AbbyRoseC
Summary: AU. Rogue has issues, a criminal record, a tortured school life, and a lesbian mother. Rogue is given community service after vandalizing the School for the Blind. There she meets Scott, a blind boy with his own problems. Can things get anymore fun?
1. Chapter 1

Pairing: Rogue/Scott

Summary: AU. Rogue has issues, including a criminal record, a tortured school life, and a lesbian mother. Rogue is given community service after vandalizing the School for the Blind, where her mother's girlfriend works. There she meets Scott, a blind student with issues of his own.

In Your Eyes

Prologue: Busted

Of all the things Marie "Rogue" Darkholme had envisioned happening that night, ending up in a squad car was not one of them. It had been a joke! Couldn't anybody take one little-bitty joke? Judging by the handcuffs she was wearing, the answer was a most definite no. The officer in the front seat certainly wasn't laughing. Leaning against the window, Rogue tried not to think about what her mother was going to say when found out about what she'd done.

When the car pulled up to the police station, the policeman motioned for her to hold up her hands. "You're not going to give me trouble are you?" he asked seriously.

Rogue would have laughed, but knew it wasn't smart. Like she—a teenage girl weighing in at 105 pounds—could do any real damage to a muscle-bound cop who made the Incredible Hulk look like a wimp! "No," she replied.

When the cuffs came off, Rogue massaged her sore wrists. The cop hadn't exactly been rough with her, but the metal had left nice red rings on her skin. She winced. Though she was no stranger to trouble, this was the first time she'd actually been cuffed and taken to the station. Rogue normally kept to the kind of mischief that warranted detention and a call to her mom. This time, she'd really dug herself in deep.

Rogue was taken in to the police station and led to a tiny hallway with chairs. She took a seat when asked with no protest. On her right sat a straggly looking, young man with wide, red eyes. _Great, _she thought darkly. _Now, I get to spend my evening with a burn out. _She needn't have worried about it, because she was soon taken back to where a female officer took her fingerprints and passed her on to yet another cop. After having her picture taken, she was returned to that same row of seats, and by now, the addict was long gone. Rogue sat there for nearly an hour before her name was called.

A short, squat cop motioned for her to follow him. "You're going to be released into your mother's custody to await trial. Any questions?"

Rogue shook her head.

Her mother was waiting for her in the lobby. Raven Drakholme was not generally known for being a soft parent, and the look on her face said that she was in a royal mood. Anyone who knew her was probably just a tiny bit sympathetic toward Rogue…Then again, if they knew Rogue, they would probably feel more sympathy for the elder Darkholme.

Rogue decided to take the first step, and hung her head. "Mom, Ah know tha' Ah really messed up this time."

"Just don't say anything," Raven said quietly. "We'll talk at home."

Translation: I am about to start screaming at you, and I don't want to do it in public. Rogue followed her mother to the car. The pair rode in silence through town and to their tiny suburb home.

All Rogue wanted to do was slink off to her room, but she knew what was coming…or at least she thought she did.

"Sit down," Raven commanded in a steely tone.

Rogue did as she was told. "Mom, it was supposed to be a joke."

"A joke? You call spray painting "Attack of the Batwoman" on the side of the school for the blind a joke? Whatever you think of Irene, even you know that is no joke." Raven pulled out a chair for herself. "I hope you realize that you are going to face charges for this."

Rogue swallowed hard. "Can't you get Irene to drop the charges?"

Raven's features hardened. "No, I can't. Even if I could, I support her decision to have you prosecuted."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me, young lady. And I really don't feel one bit sorry for you."

Tears began to stream down Rogue's face, and she brushed them away. "This is your fault! I told you that I hated her from the day you brought her here. How the hell am I supposed to feel? You ALWAYS choose her over me!"

Before Rogue knew it, a hand cracked against her cheek. "You are my daughter and I love you! That does not give you an excuse to act this way! Go to your room, and I don't want to see you until you can act with some kind of respect."

Stunned, Rogue brought her fingertips to her face. "I don't think you'll see me for a while then." Turning on her heel, she broke into a dead run and didn't stop until she flung herself on her bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note—This story is very important to me, because I am sick of people writing fics about blind/visually impaired people being weak and dependent. I am legally—but not completely—blind. Though I can read large print and see fairly well for about a foot in front of me, I still use a lot of the same methods other blind people do and I have many friends who are totally blind or close to it. I hope this story helps people see that blind people aren't what those other stories depict. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1: Seven Hundred Hours

Seven hundred hours is a lot of time. By Rogue's estimation, that was nearly one third of her summer break. Twenty-nine days of time that she could spend doing whatever she pleased, but instead she would be spending that time working as a janitor at the Xavier School For the Blind. Rogue never did anything all that amazing with her summer breaks—normally, she just watched TV with Kurt and slept in—but damn it, she didn't want to spend it like this!

Rogue stared out of the car window at the massive estate-turned-school. The main building was an impressive Georgian style mansion complete with stone pillars and a fountain out front. Two smaller building flanked the original structure. Perfectly manicured lawn stretched out as far as the eye could see. She knew that the school was relatively new, and that everything had been donated by a rich, dead guy named Charles Xavier. The name was fairly famous around Bayville. He had been some kind of big shot philanthropist. Judging by the look of the school, Rogue didn't doubt that the man had lived in style while he was alive and kicking.

As if reading her mind, Raven leaned over toward the window. "It's just as nice on the inside. All of Xavier's possessions, including the artwork, were left for the school. Irene's been on a big conservation kick," she commented.

"That's real nice," Rogue drawled. "Ah bet the floors Ah'll be cleanin' are just beautiful."

Raven's dark eyes hardened. "You dug this grave for yourself, little girl. I won't feel sorry you."

Rogue followed her mother into the main building with her arms crossed sullenly. Her mother hadn't lied—the interior of the mansion was beautiful—and there were plenty of hardwood floors for Rogue to clean. If it hadn't been for the situation, she would have taken the time to look around the place, but at the moment she was too busy brooding. Rogue stared at her shoes defiantly. She wasn't about to admire anything about the school. Down the hall, Rogue heard approaching footsteps, and she looked up to see a boy about her age.

Now, _he _was worth looking at. The boy was tall and lean. He had dark, auburn hair and strong, angular features. His clothes were very basic—khakis and a blue t-shirt—and dark, red-tinted sunglasses sat on his face. Rogue had to admit that he was hot…not her type, but still very good looking. Though he walked without a cane, it was fairly obvious that he was blind. Between the glasses and the way he seemed to follow the sounds around him by cocking his head, Rogue was certain that he couldn't see. _He must be a student here, _she thought, _but why is he still here in the summer?_ Rogue's mother must have caught her staring, because she gave her one of her classic "knock-it-off" looks. The boy seemed to zone in on their location, and he came to a stop near them.

"Hi, Scott. How are you?" Raven greeted.

Scott smiled. "I'm good. How about you, Ms. Darkholme?"

The older woman laughed. "I'm doing just fine. Please, call me Raven. And this is my daughter, Marie."

The smile on Scott's face slipped just a little, but then in a flash he was back in super-polite mode. Oh, Rogue could tell he was an ass-kissing, good, little boy. Suddenly, he was even remotely attractive to her anymore. She glared at him uselessly.

"Nice to meet you, Marie." Scott offered his hand. Rogue would have ignored it, but her mother jabbed her in the ribs.

"Yeah, same to you," Rogue murmured as she shook his hand. She noticed that as soon as her hand touched his, he covered it with his free hand as well. He also held on to her way too long for her tastes. It just weirded her out, and Rogue didn't want any part of it.

"Irene's in her office, if you two are here to see her," Scott told them.

"That's just what I was about to ask you," Raven confirmed. "I told her we'd be here around noon, and we're a bit early. Well, I think we are going to go ahead in. Have a nice day, Scott."

He nodded. "It was good seeing you again, Ms. Dar..Raven. And I'm sure I'll be running into you again all summer, Marie."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Great."

As soon as Scott was out of earshot, Raven took her battle stance—one hand on her hip and her lips in a firm line. "Do you always have to be so rude?"

Rogue shrugged. "What? Was Ah supposed to kiss his butt jus' because he's some blind, pretty-boy? And he didn't seem all tha' excited to meet me, either."

"That because he knows you vandalized his school. Rogue, you are going to have to face the fact that you have to make it up to Irene and Scott, and to the rest of the school." Raven gestured to the walls around them. "And, for the record: no, you don't have to kiss his butt because he's a blind, pretty-boy. You should treat him with the same respect that everyone else deserves."

Rogue frowned. God, she hated it when her mother got all high and mighty. "Fine. Ah'll play nice."

Irene's office was like any other principal's office that Rogue had ever been in complete with meaningless degrees hanging on the wall. She sat facing "the Batwoman" in a semi-comfortable chair with her mother beside her—just like so many other times, in so many other principal's offices. Neither of the older women acted like they even knew each other, let alone were lovers.

Irene leaned forward. "Well, Rogue, I'm glad you were here early today. I'm sure Logan would appreciate the same respect tomorrow."

"Who's Logan?" Rogue asked feigning interest.

"He's our groundskeeper, maintenance man, and sometimes security guard. You'll meet him tomorrow. He'll be showing you around and telling you what needs done," Irene explained.

"Jus' wonderful. So why am I here now?" 

Irene seemed to be annoyed with Rogue's attitude, but didn't say a word about it.. Her lips remained in a firm line. "I thought it would be best if we discussed what kind of schedule we could work out."

"How abou' you two discuss it and tell me what Ah'll be doin', cause that's what's gonna happen anyways?" Rogue stood up so quickly she sent one of the chairs falling to the ground, but she didn't look back to retrieve it. She was out of there! There was no way she was going to listen to anymore of that crap.

Rogue raced back the way she had come in, and rounded a corner…WHAM!


	3. Chapter 3

Note—I am leaving Professor Xavier completely out of this story. Also, Matt Murdock will be making an appearance in this story.

Chapter 2: No Place Like Home

Scott massaged his temples in a vain attempt to banish the migraine that had settled into his skull. Between the mother of all headaches and the pain in his bruised ribs, Scott was just about miserable. He tried to focus on the book in front of him, but somehow couldn't all he kept thinking about was Marie.

Though Scott agreed with most things Irene did when it came to the school, he couldn't agree with Marie Darkholme being on the grounds. He knew that Irene had stood up for the girl in court, and swayed the judge toward community service rather than juvenile hall. Rationally, Scott knew that people made mistakes and deserved second chances, but this girl had vandalized _his _school and _his _home. He didn't want her here, and nothing about her so far had changed his mind. The girl had knocked him on his ass and then taken off muttering about how much she hated "blind freaks and this stupid school." Instinctively, Scott touched his sore ribs. No, he didn't want that evil bitch anywhere near him or his home.

Xavier School for the Blind had been Scott's home for almost eleven years now. When he was five, he had lost both his parents and his sight in a plane crash. Scott and his brother Alex were both put into the care of their aunt and uncle, but it soon became painfully obvious that they did not truly want the boys. From there, the brothers found themselves thrust into the world of foster care. Scott would never forget how it felt to have his baby brother literally ripped from his arms as he screamed and cried. Deprived of his family, his sight, and his hope, Scott became a sad shell of a child, but that was before a social worker had enlisted the aid of the two people who would be able to help him.

Irene Adler and Matt Murdock were his own personal saviors. Irene Adler was the headmistress of the Xavier School for the Blind and also happened to have a Ph.D. in child psychology. As a highly respected advocate for reforms in the education of blind children, Irene's opinion carried a lot of weight when she objected to Scott's education and his mental well being in the group home, but that alone wasn't responsible for getting him out of there. That's where Matt Murdock came in to the picture. Matt was one of the best attorneys in New York, and with a little finagling and string pulling, he managed to have Scott put under the official guardianship of Irene. It was the first time since his parents had died that anyone had been willing to fight for him. Not only did both adults honestly care about Scott, both of them were blind, and gave him hope that he didn't have to be "some blind, bum on the streets" like the other kids teased him about. Irene and Matt were the sole reasons that Scott now had a home and pride in himself.

To Scott, Xavier School for the Blind meant more than just a building or school. It was the first place that he felt he belonged. It was where he learned to be independent and where he found that he wasn't alone. Much the same, Irene was more than just the headmistress; she was like a second mother to him. All of this combined, there was just no way he could forgive Marie for what she had done.

Scott's hand moved to the bedside table where a notebook lay. He had found it on the floor after Marie had run off. The damn thing had almost sent him flying to the ground for a second time. He wondered what was in it and—spitefully—hoped that it was something important. One thing was sure, he wasn't just going to give it back right away. His normal, strict morals were willing to bend more in light of who she was. He reasoned that he wasn't actually going to keep it, just let her sweat it a bit until she learned some manners.

A crackling noise sounded, and then Irene's voice came across the intercom system: "Scott, dinner is almost ready."

"Thanks, Irene," he replied.

With the rest of the students gone and most of the teachers on vacation, Scott and Irene at in the "house" kitchen rather than the larger cafeteria that had been converted from the large ballroom. Scott idly ran his fingers across the backs of the chairs as he made his way to his normal seat to Irene's left. Out of necessity more than habit, they never changed a single thing about their meal routine. Everything was the same from where they sat to the place setting, and even the way food was arranged on their plates. "Chicken at one, rice at six, and carrots at nine," Irene murmured as she sat his plate down.

"Smells great," Scott said as he felt his way around the plate using the back of his fork. He sprinkled a small amount of salt into his palm before putting it on his rice.

"Tomorrow's your night to cook," she reminded him with satisfaction in her voice.

"Frozen pizza it is," Scott quipped.

Irene laughed. "Are you sure you won't burn it?"

"Are you ever going to let me forget that?" he cried with mock embarrassment. Once, when he was about thirteen, he had decided to make a pizza for himself and some of the other residential students. Scott had completely forgotten to set the timer, and didn't think anything of it until he smelled smoke and the overhead sprinkler system had gone off. In the years since that incident, "frozen pizza" had remained Scott's stock answer anytime he was asked to cook.

"Eventually," Irene said—the same answer she always gave. "So Raven told me that you and Rogue got along famously."

"Rogue?"

"That's what Raven's daughter goes by."

Scott groaned and shoved a bite of chicken in his mouth. "She calls herself Rogue? Are you serious?"

"Yes," she said sternly. "Don't change the subject. What happened, Scott?"

"Nothing. We were introduced, and I was polite." Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He really did hate lying, and lying by omission was just as bad, in his opinion. "And then we kind of had a little collision."

Irene let out a low "hmm." "So that was what I heard crashing to the floor. Were you both alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I assume she was too because she was sure running fast," he muttered.

"Scott, I know you aren't happy with me for asking that she serve her community service here, but I really think it's for the best. Ignorance…" Irene began the motto he knew so well.

"Is man's worst enemy," he finished. "How do you know her problem isn't inherit evilness and not ignorance?"

"Raven's told me that Rogue's had her share of problems since they moved from Atlanta. I'm not saying that justifies what she's done, but I do think it has something to do with why she did it." Irene was suddenly quiet. "Scott, I do apologize that my personal life has hurt the school and you."

Scott sighed. "You deserve a life, too. It's not your fault it happened. Besides, I had some of the younger kids convinced that you used to be a superhero in Gotham."

He felt Irene's hand on his arm. "What would I do without, you?"

"Have peaceful summers all to yourself?"

The two spent the rest of the meal peacefully, and neither of them mentioned Marie…or "Rogue" again.

Back in his room, Scott put Imogen Heap into his CD player and laid on the bed. He kept the volume low even though the student residence area of the school was deserted. Music was one of his favorite pastimes. He had taken a few guitar lessons, but he wasn't much of a musician. Listening was enough. His extensive CD collection was mainly stuff that he had burned copies of when he borrowed CD's from his friends. This particular disc had been given to him by Ororo Monroe, one of the teachers, and was one of his guilty pleasures. The odd, ethereal voice coming from the speakers was just enough to put his mind at ease. He could focus on the music and nothing else. His sore ribs and Rogue dissolved from his thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3: The Joys of Gardening

Rogue was awakened the next morning by the sound of knocking at her door. She squinted at her clock and groaned when she saw that it was only six in the morning. "Ah'm up," she called. After finding out how insanely early she would have to get up, Rogue regretted letting her mom and Irene make her schedule. _Too late now, _she thought to herself.

After throwing on a worn pair of khaki shorts and a black t-shirt, Rogue made her way downstairs. Her mother was a natural morning person and was already sitting at the kitchen table, dressed and drinking her coffee as she read the paper. "Good morning," she said looking up from her horoscope.

"Morning" Rogue murmured as she fixed a bowl of cereal. Munching on sugar coated, cardboard bits made her feel somewhat human, but she still wasn't exactly chipper.

"I'm going to drop you off this morning, and Kurt will be there around three to pick you up," Raven told her plainly. "I've got my summer classes starting at the college today, and I won't be home until late in the evening. You and Kurt will be on your own for dinner."

"Going to see Irene after work?" Rogue asked.

"No, I'm not. I'm going out to dinner with a few other faculty members." Raven folded her paper and put her cup in the sink. "We had better get going."

Things never used to be like this between Rogue and her mom. Once upon a time in Atlanta, things had been great between all three of them. They used to do just about everything together. Her friends at school even teased her about being best friends with her mom and older brother, and it was true. When something big happened, her mom was the first person she told. They'd go shopping together, see concerts, and check out all the galleries and museums. Life had been really good. And then _**it**_ happened. Rogue knew that leaving Atlanta wasn't the wrong thing to do. After all, she wasn't so sure she wanted to be reminded of it constantly. She didn't even miss Atlanta, to be honest. What she missed was her family. In Bayville, nothing was the same. Kurt had opted to stay home and do cyber school, leaving her on her own at Bayville High. Raven took on double the classes that she had taught in Atlanta. Suddenly, Rogue was on her own. To make matters worse--to top it all off, what time her mother might have spent with her was now by Irene. It was just too much.

Irene had become the bane of Rogue's existence over the past few months. Raven had met Irene when she did an art exhibit designed for the blind. At first, Rogue really hadn't minded Irene. She'd kind of just ignored her, but then she'd made herself kind of un-ignorable. Somewhere along the line, she thought it would be a good idea to play therapist and start asking Rogue questions about what had happened. What right did she have to try and "fix" her? Better yet, why had her mom even told Irene? A war had been brewing ever since.

In the car, Rogue looked over at her mom. Raven was actually really pretty in an artsy kind of way. She was tall and athletic with shoulder length, red hair and blue eyes. Her guy friends in Atlanta had always said that she was a "MILF." Even with the small population of lesbians in Bayville, it stood to reason that Raven could have picked just about anyone besides Irene.

This time, when Rogue arrived at the school, she was greeted in the front lawn by a short man with broad shoulders and unruly brown hair. He looked to be about forty, and meaner than hell--if the scowl on his face was any kind of hint. "I take it yer Rogue," he said tossing her a pair of work gloves. "Name's Logan."

"Yeah. Ah kinda already guessed that," Rogue muttered.

Logan didn't waste time with small talk. He led her to the back of the mansion and pointed to the landscaping. "Pull all the weeds out of those flower beds. When yer done, find me out front and I'll getcha a bag to put it all in. Got it?"

"No, Ah think ya might have to explain it again," she drawled, staring at the mass amount of work ahead of her. Logan let out a snort, but didn't say anything as he left her to her work. Rogue dropped to her knees, popped her earphones in, and slid on the heavy gloves. Luckily, she had spent enough summers in the garden with her mother to know what was a weed and what was a plant.

It didn't take long before Rogue was exhausted, and her back began to ache. Even though the sun had yet to get hot, sweat was dripping from her forehead. Sitting up straight for a minute, she took the time to examine exactly how much she still had to do--which turned out to be a lot. What seemed like miles of roses, daisies, petunias and marigolds stretched out in front of her She wondered why the would bother to make the place look so nice when most people who came here couldn't see it anyway. This summer was really going to suck.

After about another hour of weeding, Logan appeared behind her with a bottle of water in hand. She drank nearly the whole bottle while he inspected her work so far. "Didn't know it was gonna be an all day thing," he muttered.

Rogue glared at him. "Ah don't know if you've noticed or not, but you've got an ass load of posies."

"Just don't slack off too much. I'll be back around noon to check up on you," he said once again ignoring her wisecrack.

Rogue checked her watch. It was only ten o'clock! She wasn't even half way done!

By the time Logan came back, Rogue had finished all of the flower beds, and was ready to pass out on the lawn. The older man looked around the gardens with a strange look of satisfaction. "Better than I thought," he muttered. "You ready to take a break and eat?"

"Yeah," she said eagerly.

Logan led her into the mansion through a back door. "There's a bathroom over there, if ya wanna clean up. I'll be in the kitchen at the end of the hall."

Rogue ducked into the small bathroom. There was no way she was going to eat lunch without trying to scrub off some of the dirt first. The sweat on her arms had provided the perfect glue for the soil to stick to, and her forearms were completely brown from the wrists up. She glanced up at her reflection as she rinsed the soap away. It was a good thing that no one from school could see her now. She wore no makeup, her hair was slick with sweat, and--despite her best efforts--she was filthy.

In the hall, Rogue stopped to examine a small statue. The piece was an abstract representation of a mother and child. Both faceless and no more than simplistic forms, the figures reached out to each other in a way that was endearing. Rogue couldn't help the proud half-smile that graced her usually grim mouth. She didn't need to read the tag below to know that it was one of her mother's works. She could spot her mom's style anywhere.

Even if Logan hadn't told her how to get to the kitchen, she would have simply had to have followed the sound of friendly banter.

"Doin' school work in the summer ain't right, kid," Logan's voice said with a laugh.

"Yeah, and I should follow your shining academic example," another male voice shot back.

"Learned everything I ever needed to know in the army. Getting shot at will straighten yer ass up."

The other voice laughed. "I don't think they'd want me in the army. A blind guy with a gun can be pretty scary." Suddenly, that voice was becoming more and more familiar.

"Blind or not, yer scrawny ass wouldn't make it in the military," Logan assured him. "Scott, ya wouldn't last one day of basic."

Shit! Scott Summers...just who she really wanted to see! Rogue leaned against the wall, and held back a groan. Dealing with Logan was bad enough. She really didn't want to add to her misery.

"So," Scott began, "was Rogue as charming to you as she was to me?"

In the hallway, Rogue's eyes narrowed.

Logan let out an undignified grunt. "Kid ain't so bad so far. I've known worse. Besides, she'll be paying for that stunt of hers whether she wants to or not."

At least someone didn't seem to hate her. Rogue straightened up, and decided to go into the kitchen. Logan gave her a strange look. "Thought ya got lost," he said.

"You're not that lucky." Rogue did her best not to look at Scott as he leaned against the counter.

Logan began removing an assortment of deli meats and cheese from the fridge. "You want a sandwich, Scott?"

Scott shook his head. "I'm going to go upstairs and read." He collected a Braille book from the counter and left without another word. It was clear he didn't want to be around her anymore than she wanted to be around him.

Thankfully, Rogue didn't see Scott for the rest of the day. Logan gave her a pair of sheers and told her to go prune the roses. It was obvious that he was going easier on her for the second half of the day, and she didn't mind one bit. She spent most of the afternoon in deep thought. By the time three rolled around, she almost didn't notice until she spotted Kurt's blue Mazda pulling up the drive.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Secrets

Scott focused on Logan's shifting form as he tried to get a decent hold. If he could just get enough leverage…THWACK! The larger man easily dumped Scott on his ass and pinned him. "Ya need to stop thinkin' and start doin'," Logan admonished. "Wanna go again?" 

"Yeah," Scott agreed stubbornly.

The two had been spending nearly every evening in the gym for the passed month. Scott had shocked everyone with two huge decisions. First, he wanted to spend his senior year at Bayville High. Second, he wanted to join the wrestling team. Scott knew that wrestling was one of the easiest sports for blind athletes to get involved in, and he wanted the chance to prove himself. Surprisingly, Logan was the first person to give his support to both. He offered to spar with Scott so that he could get used to using some of the holds. The only downside was that Logan was undoubtedly bigger and stronger than Scott. More often than not, Logan had him pinned in seconds.

This time, Scott lasted a bit longer. He almost managed to get his arms around Logan, before finding himself face first on the mat.

"I think ya've had enough for tonight," Logan said with a slight laugh.

Scott just laid there for a moment. "I think you're right."

"So just how much longer are ya plannin' on hidin' inside while Rogue's here?" Logan asked pointedly as the two gathered up their gear.

"I'm not hiding," Scott lied. In truth, he had been very careful to avoid going outside when he knew Rogue would be around. He even went as far as to eat his meals later in the afternoon to ensure that he wouldn't be in the kitchen when they came in for lunch.

Logan grunted. "Ya know next week she's comin' inside to work. Want my advice?"

"Do I have a choice?" Scott asked bitterly.

"Give it up and deal with it. She did what she did, and there's nothin' you can do about that, but maybe you can show her that she was wrong." Logan usually didn't go much deeper than a few choice four-letter words, and hearing this kind of logic from him made Scott angry.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I am sick of being the poster boy for the blind/sighted relations department? Whatever hang-ups she has about her mom and Irene are HER problem." Scott tossed down his towel.

Logan chuckled. "Sounds like somethin' I'da said at your age."

"That's a scary thought," Scott murmured.

In all honesty, Scott pretty much forgot about the conversation the moment that it was over. He soon found himself distracted by good-natured ribbing and advice on how to improve at wrestling. Maybe he didn't think of it because he just plain didn't want to. Rogue simply wasn't someone he really cared about, and he had more important things on his mind, like college.

So far, Scott had sent out five applications—three to schools that he saw as his fall-backs and two to schools that he really wanted to attend. His first pick was Columbia University, Matt's alma mater. To be honest, he had chosen the school long before he'd ever really thought about what career he wanted. It was kind of like a kid who wanted to go to the same school his parents had. Still, there was more to it than just that. Columbia had excellent social work and law departments. Unfortunately for Scott, Columbia also had standards that were near sky high. His second pick, Carnegie Mellon wasn't exactly easy to get into either. All in all, he was more than a little worried that he hadn't received anything in the mail by now. Irene and Matt had both told him to relax and enjoy his senior year, but it wasn't in him to just simply relax.

As Scott walked by the kitchen, Irene's voice caught his attention. "Are you sure Rogue is having nightmares again?" 

For some strange reason, Scott stopped. He leaned up against the wall, hoping that Raven couldn't see him, and waited for more.

He heard Raven sigh. "I hear her tossing and turning in her sleep a lot at night. Sometimes, she even starts to cry. I want to wake her up, but the last time I did… I just keep wondering if we're ever going to get through this. If she's ever going to be able to get over what happened."

Irene's voice was so soft that Scott had to strain to hear her. "Raven, this isn't something she's just going to get over. She needs to accept that it happened, that it wasn't her fault, and learn to move on."

"Scott?" 

Caught off guard, Scott nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Ororo's voice. "Scott, what are you doing?" 

"Nothing," he answered too quickly.

Ororo tsked gently. "I thought you were too old to play hide and seek," she chided.

Scott laughed uncomfortably. "Shouldn't you and Hank be away at your love nest?"

"I am just here to do an inventory of all of the new textbooks. I had hoped Irene wouldn't mind giving me a hand, but I won't bother her and her company. Would you mind helping me?" she asked.

"Helping" turned out to be manual labor. At six months pregnant, Ororo shouldn't be lifting the heavy boxes, and Scott didn't mind. He heaved a box on top of the desk and felt for the edged of the lid. Ripping aside the packing tape, he began to unload stacks of Braille textbooks. He moved his fingers along the title. "Introductory to Physical Science," he read aloud. "So Hank finally got his wish."

Ororo laughed. "I don't think Irene can stand to hear my husband cry anymore." For the past two years, Hank McCoy had been begging Irene for new science texts.

"Are you getting ready for Bayville?" she asked as she took the books from Scott.

For the past month, Scott had been reading over some of the textbooks that they used at Bayville. Most of the classes at Xavier were just as extensive as the ones in public school, but—due to the small class size—there were no advanced classes or gifted programs. Scott's class load at Bayville would be challenging. Luckily, he had managed to get all of his teachers to give him suggested reading lists. It wasn't going to be easy, and generally everyone was behind him…everyone but Irene. Scott sighed. "I think I am. I just can't believe Irene isn't supporting this."

"Irene is having a hard time letting you grow up," Ororo told him. He felt her hand on his shoulder. "I hope you know how much we all care about you here, but to Irene you are her little boy. You are her son in every way that counts, Scott."

His throat felt tight. "I know that, and it means more than anything to me. It's just time for me to start actually being independent. I want to make you all proud."

Scott found himself wrapped in a tight hug. "We are all very proud of you! You are becoming the man we all knew you would be. Maybe Irene is having a hard time seeing that you are actually growing up. God only knows what will happen when it is time for Hank and I to send our child to school."

Scott smiled. "You'll have to put Hank on drugs."

The two laughed.

After sorting all of the books, Ororo and Scott joined Irene and Raven in the kitchen. "We're going to have a bit of a pizza party tonight," Irene announced. "Kurt and Rogue are going to come out. Ororo, why don't you call Hank and Evan?"

"Hmm, I could be tempted into not cooking," Ororo said cheerily. "Besides, I think Hank would like to challenge Raven to another game of chess. He's a sore loser."

Raven laughed. "I used to play all the time with my parents. My father was very ruthless on the board. I only wish Rogue and Kurt played."

Scott felt his good mood dissolve at the mention of Rogue's name, but refused to let his smile slip. He genuinely liked Raven. The artist had made Irene happier than Scott had ever seen her. For that, he could ignore Rogue…perhaps maybe even be nice.

Within an hour, Xavier house seemed more like school was back in session than ever. Even Logan had ventured into the main house for dinner. Thankfully, Evan and Hank arrived first. Evan was Ororo's nephew and lived with his aunt while his parents did humanitarian work in Darfur. At first, Evan had been something of a pest to Scott. The younger kid a knack for trouble and was always underestimating Scott. It had taken quite a few games of horse (using an audible hoop) for Evan to realize that Scott—and most blind people—could do most anything sighted people could do. Now the two were best friends.

"Dude, you should have seen the look on Hank's face! I think he thought we were going to crash," Evan said with a laugh. Having only gotten his license a month ago, the sixteen year old was still restricted to only driving with his aunt's permission.

Scott groaned. "That isn't something to be proud of."

"What's wrong with you?" Evan asked.

"Nothing," Scott lied. "Just a headache."

Evan seemed to buy the excuse and began chattering about the major wipe out he'd had at the skate park. He barely took time to breathe between sentences, and that suited Scott just fine. He didn't want to think about Rogue being brought into the group…into his family.

Rogue and her brother arrived not long after Evan had, and Scott braced himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Rogue leaned her head against the car window, and tried her best not to listen to Kurt's assurances that things would get better for her. Her brother had an oddly optimistic view of life—despite all of the many reasons he had not to—and it often ended up clashing with her own dark perspective. Kurt honestly believed that Bayville would be good for them, and that Irene was making their mother happy. He didn't understand why Rogue couldn't seem to adapt. Rogue sighed and tried to make out shapes in the quickly passing clouds above them.

"Sometimes, I vonder, vhy I even try to talk to you vhen you are like this," Kurt muttered with a half amused, half annoyed voice.

"Ah don't know either," Rogue agreed sparing a glance at her brother. It was like he just didn't understand anymore.

Proving her point, Kurt laughed. "You vill listen someday," he told her warmly.

"Why should Ah? You didn't listen when Ah begged you to come to school with me," she reminded him bitterly.

Kurt murmured a few German curse words under his breath. "You know vhy I vanted not to come to Bayville High," he said softly.

If there was one thing they had in common, it was that they were both considered to be outcasts—though for entirely different reasons. Rogue, for the most part, chose to set herself against the norm with her dyed hair and slightly goth clothing. Kurt was merely born different. Born with a severely cleft palate and other smaller facial deformities, Kurt didn't get to benefit from their mother's good looks. His upper lip was scarred and somewhat immovable over his uneven teeth, his nose was slightly off center, and his ears were malformed making them look pointed. All of his distorted features gave Kurt a demonic look that belied his caring nature. Somewhere along the line, people started to call him "Elf"—a nickname that hurt him more than he ever let on. Kurt's appearance may seem a bit disturbing to some people, but Rogue only saw the brother she had loved and adored all of her life. She tended to notice the mischief shining in his blue eyes and how impish he looked with his shaggy, dark hair than she did his deformities. Other people didn't, and Rogue truly did understand why he had chosen cyber school.

"Ah hate feeling alone all the damn time," Rogue admitted resentfully.

Pulling to the side of the road, Kurt put the car into park. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like forever. Finally, Kurt reached out and touched Rogue's shoulder.

"Vould it help if I came to Bayville for senior year?" he asked "I vill enroll tomorrow, if you think it vould help."

Rogue swallowed hard. She knew he meant it. Kurt really would be willing to let himself be thrown to wolf packs of high school social cliques just to be there for her, but deep down they both knew that it would all be for nothing. Despite their past closeness, Rogue knew that she still couldn't talk to him about anything that was going on in her head. It would be just plain selfish for her to expect him to put up with the kind of ridicule they both knew he'd have to go through just so she could feel a tiny bit better about her life.

"It won't help," she told him truthfully.

"Rogue, I vould go back and change everything if I could, but ve both know zhat nothing can change the past. Vhy von't you let me help you vith the future?" he asked. "Talk to me. Tell me vhatever you vant. I don't care. I von't judge you."

"Ah know you won't. Ah….it's just that…Ah can't." Rogue looked away. "It's complicated."

Kurt sighed and started the engine. "Another time then."

"Another time."

When they pulled up to the Xavier mansion, Rogue noted that there were two other cars parked near her mother's. She rolled her eyes at the thought of meeting more of Irene's stuffy, faux intellectual friends. If her mother hadn't threatened to extend her grounding into the next school year, she never would have come. She hated parties. She hated Irene. She hated everything about this situation.

Rogue and Kurt made their was to the back terrace of the mansion where Irene and Raven were seated near another couple Rogue hadn't seen before. Raven smiled at them warmly—almost like she was happy to see them both. "I thought we were going to need to send a search party for you two," she teased lightly.

Kurt let out a small chuckle. "We took a slight detour," he lied. Rogue knew that he would never tell anyone why they were really late.

Raven turned to the man and woman beside her. "These are my children, Kurt and Rogue. And this is Dr. Henry McCoy and his wife Ororo." 

After murmuring pleasantries, Dr. McCoy asked: "Has anyone seen the boys recently?"

"I think they are still playing basket ball," Irene answered. She turned her head toward Rogue and Kurt. "You two can go join in, if you want."

Rogue's initial reaction was to ask if she could just go sit in the car, but she knew that her mother wouldn't like that. Given the choice between sitting with Irene or playing basketball, she wasn't really sure which would be less painful. She was just about to say that she would stay, when Kurt said that he was going to go play. There was no way in hell she would willingly spend time with Irene, and thus her choice was made. Without a word, she trailed after her brother.

Once they were out of earshot, Kurt looked over to her. "Don't you think zhat you could be at least a little friendlier?"

Rogue shrugged. "Ah didn't tell her to screw herself."

Kurt sighed. "Thank god for small miracles."

Rogue wasn't surprised to see Scott on the court when they arrived. She had seen him shooting hoops in the afternoons some days, but her brother seemed rather surprised that a blind guy could play the way Scott did. They watched unnoticed for a few minutes before the black boy playing with Scott spotted them.

"Hey guys," he said cordially. "You're Raven's kids right?"

"Ya," Kurt returned bobbing his head in an almost comical fashion. "I am Kurt and this is my sister Rogue."

"I'm Evan and that's Scott," he said tossing a look over to where the auburn haired boy stood. Scott seemed to be hanging back as much as Rogue was, but he did murmur hello at least. To his credit, Evan didn't seem to be staring at Kurt like he was some sort of circus freak, and he didn't seem to think Rogue was the anti-christ. "You guys wanna play horse?" he asked.

Kurt smiled. "I haven't played any sports since I started cyber school," he admitted sheepishly.

"So? Scott's blind, and I didn't make the varsity team," Evan quipped.

"Vell, I guess I am in," Kurt said with a laugh. He turned to his sister. "Rogue?"

Rogue shifted uneasily. She hated being put on the spot. "Nah. Ah think Ah'll just watch for now."

Though Kurt was disappointed, he didn't outright say so. He just frowned a bit.

Rogue parked her self on the metal bench just outside of the court and pulled out her earphones from her pocket. She really didn't have any desire to listen to the boys ripping on each other. With Cradle of Filth screaming in her ears, she watched the three of them play one game—which Evan won. She had to smile at Kurt's absolute lack of skill. To her surprise, Scott excused himself from the other two and made his way over to the bench.

Scott reach out a hand to find the seat and then plopped himself down beside her uninvited. To be honest, he was a lot closer than Rogue preferred. Her initial instinct was to turn up the volume and pretend to ignore him, but for some reason she turned off her iPod.

"Your brother seems really nice," Scott commented awkwardly. It was the first he'd spoken to her since their collision over two weeks ago.

"He is nice," she agreed. "Evan doesn't seem too bad." 

Scott smiled. "Don't let him fool you. This is one of his good days. So you don't know Evan from Bayville High?" 

Rogue shook her head, but then immediately felt foolish. "No, Ah don't really pay much attention to my classmates," she admitted.

"You're a sophmore this year?" he asked.

"Junior," she corrected. "Ah can't wait to be done." 

Scott nodded understandingly. "I'm actually transferring to Bayville for my senior year."

"Why would you do something like that?" she asked in amazement. Why would anyone subject themselves to public school?

He shrugged. "A change of pace. I've never been to a 'normal' school before—or at least one that I can remember. I guess I thought I should spend some time with sighted people before moving off to college." 

"You've been here your whole life?"

"Since I was six. Irene took me in when no one else wanted me. She gave me a home," he told her. "My parents died in an accident, and blind kids aren't usually the first ones to be adopted."

A tiny bubble of shame started to grow in Rogue's stomach. She couldn't imagine living in one place her whole life, let alone not having any family at all. Her family might be a strange one, but they were a family nonetheless. All this time, Raven had been going on and on about what a good person Irene was. Rogue still didn't really believe the woman was a saint, but she couldn't be all bad if she'd given Scott a place to stay.

"So you must really hate me then," she said softly.

Scott sighed. "I'm not going to lie; I'm still pretty pissed. Mostly though, I just don't understand."

"Ah'd be pissed too," she admitted. "Ah didn't think anyone would get so upset 'bout it, but Ah guess that was really stupid. Ah'm sorry, Scott."

"I'm not really the one who you should be apologizing to, but thanks," he said. "So was that Cradle of Filth you were listening to?" 

"You heard that?" Rogue asked in pure amazement. No one around here knew who Cradle of Filth were and even if they did, how had he heard that?

Scott laughed. "I don't have super sonic hearing or anything. You had it cranked up pretty loud. Plus, I tend to pay more attention to sounds around me than most sighted people. Call it a trick of the trade."

"Ah'm shocked you know the band."

"Why?"

"Ya jus don't seem like a black metal kinda guy," Rogue told him holding back a laugh.

"It's kind of hard to paint your nails black when you can't see," he joked. "I listen to just about any kind of music. My CD's have taken over most of my room."

"Mine would too, but Ah've more with itunes. Ever listen to Cannibal Corpse?"


End file.
